


Together in Coruscant

by PracticalOrBrave__Brave



Category: Anastasia (1997), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anastasia (1997) References, Anastasia AU, Eventual stormpilot, F/M, Reylo - Freeform, reylo anastasia au, reylo au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-04-16 11:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14164074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PracticalOrBrave__Brave/pseuds/PracticalOrBrave__Brave
Summary: The evil Force-user Snoke destroys the New Republic in an effort to wipe out the Skywalker bloodline and secure his place as ruler of the galaxy, but young Ben Solo disappears when the palace is overrun. Years later, two exiled schemers, a renowned mechanic and a famous smuggler, find an orphan boy who bears a remarkable resemblance to the missing prince (defunct title or not). They take him to Coruscant, hoping to cash in on whatever reward they can get from the elusive Luke Skywalker, not knowing he is the real Ben Solo.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Reylo Anastasia AU. I got this idea from a post I saw on tumblr (@quillofstars) and fell in love with it!!  
> Enjoy!!

_There was a time, not very long ago, when we lived in a war-torn galaxy finally brought to peace and brimming with hope for our future._

_The year was 14 ABY, and my sister, Leia, was the General of the New Republic. We were celebrating the 10th anniversary of the restoration of peace in the galaxy. That night, no star shown brighter than my nephew, Ben Solo. He begged to come with me to train as a Jedi, but his place was with his family, with his planet and his people. Still, I knew a boy of his bloodline would be strong with the Force, and one day, it would come time for him to train._

_I gave him my own lightsaber, passed on to me by my father, to make the separation easier for both of us. I promised Ben that one day we would meet at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, where Anakin Skywalker became a Jedi Knight, and begin his education in the Force._

_But we would never meet on Coruscant._

_A dark shadow had descended upon the Skywalker line. His name was Snoke. We thought he was a peaceful man and an ally to the Republic, but he was a fraud. Power-mad and dangerous. Consumed by his hatred of my family, he sought out the Dark Side in order to destroy us. From that moment on, the spark of uneasiness in our Republic was fanned into a flame that would soon destroy our lives forever._

_So many lives were lost that night. What peace we had fought for and protected for so many years was now gone forever._

_And Ben, my beloved nephew._

_I never saw him again._


	2. A Rumor in Takodana

“I got you a job.”

Kylo glanced up from his seat at the bar, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the dim castle after looking so long at the datapad. It was mid-day, but Takodana’s sun never quite penetrated the thick castle walls. 

Maz Kanata placed two wrinkled orange fists on her hips. “Sidon Ithano,” she rolled her head to the left.  
Kylo followed the movement to the only occupied table at the far end of the hall. 

His eyes landed first on a figure that resembled something the size of a Hutt. A large reptilian face and tiny yellow eyes, dwarfed further by his wide mouth and long nostrils. Most of his leathery skin was hidden beneath a tattered brown cloak, but the fabric did nothing to mask the peg leg.

Across from him, a Twi’lek ran the metal fingers of her left hand around the lip of her glass, looking somehow both profoundly bored and keenly alert. The metal went all the way to her shoulder, and Kylo noted how the silver starkly contrasted her bright red complexion.

Sidon Ithano was between the two, sitting at the furthest chair from Kylo. A well-known pirate, more commonly known as the Crimson Corsair for his blood-hued attire and matching Kaleesh mask, Sidon earned his reputation while looking for treasure he could sell to Count Dooku during the Clone Wars.

Kylo knew them from the stories other patrons had told him as a child. When the posse wasn’t aiding the Separatists, they were hiding in the Outer Rim, ransacking any vessel they came across. 

“He needs a pilot,” Maz continued, ignorant of Kylo’s disgust for both the gang and the job offer. “One job. If it goes well, he’ll take you on permanently.”  
As if he could hear them talking, Sidon Ithano looked up, meeting Kylo’s stare. The masked Delphidian lifted his head – a question, a challenge. _Are you in or out?_  
Kylo looked back at Maz.  
“Behave,” she warned.  
Her beady eyes, magnified by her googles, bore into him until he nodded.  
Maz forced herself to ignore the fact that Kylo had once again rummaged through the tunnels of her castle as she took the datapad off the bar, along with three empty glasses Kylo had collected that morning, and made her way to the kitchen. 

 

He’d been in Maz Kanata’s care for nearly a decade. And oddly enough, he couldn’t remember anything before he’d arrived on Takodana in the cargo hold of the Rodian Esdo. That was the first and only time Kylo had seen Maz’s true fury. Esdo had tried to sell her a nine-year-old orphan he’d found wandering around the Inner Rim, on a planet Kylo had long ago forgotten the name of. Maz saw a helpless child being auctioned off like an animal or a mechanical part. Though she’d never shied from patrons who dealt in morally questionable areas, none before Esdo had ever been so stupid as to involve her in their business. Within moments, Esdo was running for his life and Kylo was looking into the face of his savior. 

Kylo’s mouth pulled into a smirk at the memory. He owed his life to Maz. He owed everything to Maz, even his name.

 

_“Boy!”_  
_He started. Maz had caught him in yet another early morning daydream, staring out the largest window in the castle, watching ships from every corner of the galaxy swoop down from the clouds and burst again through the atmosphere when their business was done._  
_“Your head,” she tsked as he pulled his gaze from the sunrise, “Always so far away.”_  
_Maz was burdened with a stack of dirty plates from the castle’s latest patrons, but she shifted them to one arm so her other hand was free to card through the boy’s unruly black hair._  
_He flinched._  
_She drew back and sighed. “I imagine you feel trapped here, young one.”_  
_The boy didn’t respond, but she wasn’t really expecting him to._  
_Her voice softened. “It’s difficult to see a future without the past.”_  
_Silence._  
_A new thought. “I need something to call you.”_  
_His brown eyes widened, just a little._  
_Maz tilted her head to the side, a smile pulling creases through her ancient face._  
_“Kylo,” she declared after a moment._  
_The boy’s eyebrow quirked up._  
_“It means sky. An old language. From an old time.”_  
_The faintest hint of a smile lit his features, and Maz moved swiftly to push the pile of plates into his arms and charge back toward the main hall. “There,” she called over her shoulder. “You remember that next time you stare into space.”_  
_And just like that, he was Kylo._  


  

" _Kylo_ ,” Maz hissed.  
He started.  
"Where’s your head?”  
It was less a question and more an exasperated endearment.  
Kylo pursed his lips.  
“Maz,” he began slowly. “Have you ever been to Jakku?”  
She rolled her eyes. “Not this again.”  
“Hear me out. I think I found someone who can help me find–”  
“Enough, Kylo. That bit of plastic is worthless, we both know that.”  
“I don’t know that,” he challenged. “And neither do you.”  
She threw her arms up; they landed crossed against her chest.  
“You said you’d help me,” he reminded her. “You promised.”  
“I promised to help you when you were a child, Kylo. When hope was still alive that your family could be out there.”  
“They _are_ out there. I can feel it, Maz.”  
Maz uncrossed her arms to pull her goggles away from her face. Her eyes seemed to shrink a few sizes, a look Kylo was still not used to after a decade.  
“Kylo–”  
“The datapad,” he cut her off. “I’ve been looking for someone who could identify the wire and where it came from.”  
“Yes, and I’ve asked you countless times not to poke around the tunnels.”  
Kylo scoffed. “The point is, I found a mechanic on Jakku that knows old parts. They could be the next step to finding out where I came from, where I belong.”  


Maz considered this. “And what happens when it’s another dead end?”  
His jaw clenched. “It won’t be.”  
“Kylo.” She said his name with all the pity in the galaxy.  
“I don’t know who I am, Maz. I can’t keep going on like whoever I used to be doesn’t matter.”  
“My boy, you have to let the past go.”  
Her head bobbed as if she’d said the final word on the subject. Maz repositioned her goggles to their proper place and shuffled away from Kylo, beginning a beeline that would take her around the newly-occupied tables.  
“If you were me,” he shouted to her retreating form. A couple patrons looked up only to make sure the voice wasn’t addressing them. Maz froze. “Wouldn’t you want to know if you had a family? Wouldn’t you stop at _nothing_ to find out anything that could lead you to them?”  
“It’s time you take your place in life.” Maz’s voice was ice. She rounded on him. “You have a job and a future. _Here and now._ Be grateful.”  
They glared at each other a moment longer, until Maz turned again and stormed out of the hall. None of the patrons dared to make eye contact with Kylo, but a few glanced in Maz’s direction.  
Kylo was glued to the floor. Heat and anger pumped through his veins, vibrated between his clenched fists, pooled in his chest.  


  

Suddenly, whatever force held him in place snapped, and without another thought, he turned his back on Maz and Sidon and the bar and the castle and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["Quiggold" the Gabdorian](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/quiggold)   
>  ["Reveth" the Twi'lek](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/reveth)   
>  ["Sidon Ithano/Crimson Corsair"](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/sidon_ithano)   
>  ["Esdo" the Rodian](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/esdo)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Fun Fact about Kylo’s name: Sky in Latin is “caelum” (pronounced “kay-loom”)
> 
> Ren means something like “ruler”  
> (Ren (Chinese: 仁) is the Confucian virtue denoting the good feeling a virtuous human experiences when being altruistic – from Google)
> 
> So Kylo Ren is quite literally “sky ruler”...soooo supreme leader? A nod to his Skywalker ancestry? Foreshadowing his epic redemption in episode 9? 
> 
> Yes. Yes. YES!!!  
> #SaveBenSolo


	3. Journey to the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE SPECIAL shout out to @justanobodie for your wonderful, kind and amazing messages this week! This might be super dorky, but I’d like to officially dedicate this chapter to you for helping me out of my writer’s block funk and encouraging me to keep writing. You don’t know how much I needed it! Thank you!
> 
> This chapter was also made possible by the very helpful writing/writer’s block tips from @soundlessdragon!! I don’t know what I’d do without the support of this fandom. You all have had such a huge impact on me in the short time since I began writing this, so I’m going to do more shout outs and chapter dedications to show just a little bit of my appreciation. You’re all so freaking fantastic, I just love you!
> 
> Thank you all again for being patient as this fic progresses. I’ve spent the last few weeks fixing plot holes and further developing the story to encompass more of the Star Wars universe, and I cannot wait to share it all with you! 
> 
> On to some notes for this chapter:
> 
> As I was doing initial research for this fic, I came across this GEM: https://nerdist.com/carrie-fisher-ghostwrite-anastasia-scene/
> 
> CARRIE FISHER WROTE A SCENE IN THE 1997 ANASTASIA MOVIE  
> WHAT?!  
> I almost dropped my laptop when I read that. And it was all thanks to a random Wikipedia search that led me to the best Nerdist article ever  
> (and, if we’re getting technical, she wrote the Journey to the Past scene. SO. Yeah.)
> 
> She really is the most amazing Princess/General/Space Mom ever.

 

Panic was a new emotion for BB-8.  
The determined little droid had finally evaded his captor – some junk trader who wasn’t worthy of a name, in BB-8’s opinion – and had found his way deep into the marshy forests of an unfamiliar planet. Takodana, by his readings.  
Well, at least he hadn’t been carted off to the other side of the galaxy.  
BB-8 let out something like a sigh of relief but silenced himself mid-whirr.  
While his captor had given up the search almost immediately, either not very good at stealing and reselling droids or perhaps in too much of a hurry, BB-8 still lingered hesitantly in the brush. As he quietly rolled this way and that, calculations were continuously processing. Every extra minute of hiding meant better odds for him to get back to the Resistance. Yet every extra minute of hiding also lessened the odds of making it back to his friends in time. 

 

 _“Ready, buddy?” Poe called from the cockpit._  
_BB-8 was situated in his compartment, already done with the pre-flight checks. He beeped out an affirmative to Poe._  
_“Good.” The fearless pilot strapped on his helmet and gave a wink to the gunner and the engineer who stood just below the black X-Wing. “See you at the same place?”_  
_The sisters shared a look._  
_“I’m not sure about this,” the younger said finally. “Should we be splitting up? With everything that’s going on?”_  
_“Relax, Rose,” replied her sister, the gunner, Paige. “If the old man won’t help us, maybe Tekka will.”_  
_“They’re_ both _old men,” Rose complained._  
_Her sister rolled her eyes and looked back to the pilot, who gave them a lopsided grin._  
_“Trust the Force,” he commanded, and Paige beamed._  
_Rose looked unconvinced but replied, “May the Force be with you.”_

 

Three standard days. It had been three standard days since BB-8 was ordered to leave his master crouched behind the X-Wing with nothing but a confident smirk and a weathered blaster. Three standard days since he’d been determined to get help but was captured moments before he’d been able to find a strong enough signal to send out a distress call. 

The droid’s processor picked up speed, calculating odds for the survival of the pilot; the amount of time it would take for the sisters to realize what had happened and evacuate their safehouse; the chances of finding a way back before then, without running into any more poachers – or worse, armor-plated cronies of General—  
BB-8 swiveled on his base as his processor suddenly accessed information far more interesting than numbers.  
That settled it.  
He needed to find a way back to Jakku.

 

Kylo had been pacing for what seemed like hours.  
His boots slammed into the soft ground, but it didn’t give him any kind of satisfaction. Anger and hurt swirled within him like a hurricane. The betrayal too fresh as longing turned to sadness and then unquenchable hatred. It climbed up his spine, dug into chest, tugged below his hairline.  
A hand flashed to his neck, latching on to the cord that was suddenly more than irritating. Kylo tore the necklace away and gathered it up in his fist, readying to hurl it into the ocean. But then he caught a glimpse of blue and red between his pale fingers.  
It calmed him instantly.  
Panting, he opened his hand slowly, revealing a cerulean crystal attached to a long black cord. Where the crystal and cord intercepted, a thin red wire wound between, lose enough to avoid internal damage and tight enough to keep from slipping off.  
Where he got it, no one knew. It was around his neck the day Esdo the Rodian attempted to sell him to Maz, and it likely had been there long before then.  
“A Kyber crystal,” Maz had told him of the gemstone. Rare, but far too common to be of any use when a 15-year-old Kylo began asking questions about his past – questions that no one, not even Maz in her infinite wisdom, had answers to.  
The wire however.  
It was old, obviously well-used, and could be identified by the right person. And he’d already found them in the datapad discovered beneath the castle. Technically, he’d found a mention of an outpost that was fabled to hold talented mechanics. But the outpost brought in traders who worked on sites like the Starship Graveyard, where wreckages of warships from the Battle of Jakku were scattered throughout the area, littering the landscape with decades worth of technology and information. Surely there would be at least one person on the planet who knew enough from these ancient beasts to be able to find the origins of Kylo’s ancient wire.

But still, he was losing confidence in this plan by the minute.

Kylo looked back to the castle, his thoughts on Sidon Ithano and his posse. If he went with them, he’d be no better than any of the scum who waltzed through Maz’s castle every day. He’d run around the galaxy with a band of pirates, stealing from innocents and living in exile, and for what? For a few good jobs? For credits he could only use in secret?  
Kylo shook his head. If he went with them, he’d be some nameless no-account forever. 

He turned his gaze to the right, where a body of water stretched out from the castle’s island and on between far-off emerald mountains. The sun was lower than it was when he’d first left the castle; his eyes followed a few departing ships ascending into space, just above the pale pink beginnings of a sunset. 

If he went to Jakku, if he could find out where the wire had come from, where or with whom it belonged, maybe it would lead him to...  
His hand tightened once again around the crystal.  
Where would it lead him?  
What if Maz was right?  
Kylo swore, replacing the bauble around his neck.  
He pushed a hand through his ink-black hair, unkempt and loosely wavy, hanging just below his jawline. “This is crazy. Just give me a sign,” he whispered. “A hint, anything.”  
Only the air whistled back through the greenery. 

 

Until a crazed beeping disrupted the stillness.

 

Kylo whirled around in time to see a flash of orange and white hurtling at him from a nearby tree line.  
The ball-shaped blur bolted between his legs – an unusual course, even if Kylo’s height offered no resistance – before Kylo turned again to reach down and still the blur in front of him, hands on either side of its spherical base.  
A droid.  
It’s utility arm popped out, bumped against Kylo’s bended knee, and released a surprisingly intense electrical shock.  
Kylo stumbled and yelled out in pain. _“Hey!”_ He gripped the droid tighter and shook it. “Who are you?” he demanded.  
The droid sucked in its utility arm and squealed.  
Kylo glared at it. _“Who are you!”_  
A pause. It beeped back it’s designation.  
Kylo needed an extra second to recall what little he knew of binary and droidspeak. “Beebee-Ate?”  
An affirmative whirr, aided by a small nod-like movement of the droid’s half-circle head on its base.  
He released the droid but kept an eye on where the utility arm had vanished inside the sphere.  
BB-8 had a demand of his own.  
Kylo nearly scoffed at the brazen little astromech.  
“I’m Kylo.”  
The droid’s photoreceptor clicked twice.  
Kylo looked around, scanning the dense line of trees for signs of life looking for his new friend. “What are you doing out here?”  
BB-8 gave a cursory glance to their surroundings too before a series of quick and serious beeps came tumbling from him.  
Kylo caught only a few words – but they were enough. The shock of it was somehow more impressive than the electrical one. “You need someone to take you to _Jakku_?”  
Of all the stars and planets and systems in the galaxy, what were the chances a strange BB unit would pop out of the forest and make life decisions for him? Apparently pretty high, but Kylo was not about to quibble about odds.  
“Okay,” he breathed, standing to his full height and said, addressing whatever entity that had a hand in this new development, “I can take a hint.”

 

The last place Kylo expected to be was back at Maz’s castle. He had left the stone confines before, but never with such an air of finality. And here he was, sneaking his way through a back corridor, the orange and white BB-8 in tow. 

Getting to his room was easy enough. Crowds and noise were echoing throughout the castle, and Kylo could tell the dinner rush was just beginning. As the living quarters were directly opposite the main dining area, he had all the cover he could possibly want. 

The pair traipsed through tunnels and halls until Kylo paused at his door, opening it to reveal a modest dwelling. A bed opposite the door, neatly made; a desk catty-corner to a grimy window with long dark drapes. The desk itself was covered in paper and ink dispensers and pens, and a trash receptacle beneath it held as much crumpled paper as it could.  
BB-8 made a noise as they entered. Kylo didn’t catch the phrase, but the tone was decidedly unimpressed and lacking patience.  
“Droids,” he muttered under his breath, retrieving a rucksack from a large crate at the foot of his bed.  
He began filling the sack with essentials: credits he’d earned in tips from castle patrons that were stored in box he kept hidden behind neatly folded clothes resting on closet shelves. He rifled through the short stacks, retrieving a change of clothes that he stuffed into the bag as well.  
Turning away from the closet, Kylo faced the desk, glanced at BB-8, and knelt to retrieve something out of one of the shallow desk drawers. It was a gray cylinder, about half the length of his forearm. Maz had given it to him when he was just a boy and told him to keep it out of sight, to only use it to protect himself if worst came to worst. He didn’t know what she’d intended it for at the time, but as he was embarking on this bound-to-be-dangerous mission, it seemed important to include it in his packing.  
The inevitable question came from the droid.  
“It’s a weapon,” Kylo said simply. “In case we run into trouble.”  
The droid didn’t respond.  
Kylo drew the rucksack close, inspecting the contents and darting his eyes around the room checking for any missed items.  
His eyes fell on the bed, noticing a shiny dark rectangle clashing with the matte fabric of his blanket.  
The datapad.  
Maz had taken it off the bar that afternoon, had even scolded Kylo for snooping around the tunnels to find it. And she must have brought it here, left it on Kylo’s bed.  
A twinge of emotion rocked through him. He swallowed and plucked the pad off the mattress, adding it to his bag of essentials without a word.  
The last item was a hooded cloak, draped over the desk chair. Kylo tossed it over his arm, along with the bag, and motioned for the droid to follow him back into the castle labyrinth.

BB-8 was silent as they made their way back through the castle, and Kylo was grateful for it. He needed the silence to think, to process. The datapad. The castle. Jakku. He’d made his choice, but perhaps he’d been rash coming to it.  
Kylo was drafting an apology in his head when he and BB-8 rounded a corner, and Kylo froze.  
BB-8 thumped into his legs, beeping out in surprise while Kylo stared at the figure on the opposite end of the hallway.  
Maz.  
There was no shock on her face, only suspicion, as if she’d known all along he was there, had been looking for him. Her round eyes studied him, flitting from his face to his cloak, to the droid briefly, and landing finally on the bag.  
No one moved.  
Kylo’s heart beat faster as Maz’s gaze bore into him. She always seemed to have a way of seeing inside him, somehow, of knowing more about him than even he did.  
He didn’t like it.  
The same feeling from the forest began building within him, suddenly. He _did_ want to say something to Maz. To make her understand the depth of her betrayal, how her dismissiveness tore deeply into him and into what little hope he was still clinging to for survival. He wanted her to not only understand, but to know the exact feeling of loss and frustration and desperation and–  
“Be safe, child,” she whispered, and it carried through the long corridor.  
He blinked and the feeling was gone, as quickly as it had come. Kylo opened his mouth, but Maz turned away and vanished though another door.  
It didn’t matter. He’d lost what he was going to say.  
“This way,” he breathed to the droid. Kylo put his back to where Maz had stood and they continued down yet another hall. 

 

Settled in the cargo area of a small freighter, BB-8 took the liberty of showing Kylo holograms of the planet.  
Desert. Just. Desert.  
“And why do you want to go there?” Kylo asked again, even though the answer had been the same the last three times he’d asked it.  
BB-8 whirred. Classified.  
Kylo scoffed. He would just have to be content staring at his kyber crystal and hoping their plan goes anything but horribly wrong.  
Then the droid warbled, earning a glare.  
“And why should I tell you?”  
“We’re close,” called Taggart from the pilot’s chair.

He was an old smuggler Kylo had seen around Maz’s castle more than a few times over the years. Taggart specialized in moving glitterstim spice, and Kylo couldn’t believe their luck. The old man had been running diagnostics on his ship when Kylo and BB-8 came through the makeshift tarmac on Takodana, searching for a willing transport.  
In the end, it cost Kylo some manual labor, loading boxes of the spice into the main hold, and an hour or two of BB-8’s time to check out the ancient ship and make whatever repairs he could. “Anything for Maz’s boy,” Taggart had said.

Taggart called Kylo to the co-pilot’s chair and explained that they were landing in the Kelvin Ravine on Jakku. “Tuanul will be about a kilometer thataway,” he said pointing straight out the cockpit window. 

Kylo thanked him after they’d landed. BB-8 made a grateful beep too.  
“You need a ride back?” Taggart asked, already making himself comfortable in a shady spot in the sand beneath a ship wing. He ran a wrinkled hand through his graying hair and mumbled something about getting too old and wanting to check on his shipment before leaving the planet.  
“Give us a few hours,” Kylo said, barely hiding a smirk.  
Taggart nodded, throwing a hand over his eyes to block out the morning sunshine.  
The pair started toward the village in the driest heat Kylo had ever felt.

They’d been walking for only a few minutes when BB-8 let out some mechanical beeps, his tone wary.  
“No lifeforms?” Kylo shook his head, his scalp grateful for the movement of wind between his dark, heat-trapping hairs. “That’s impossible. We’re coming up on a village. Your sensor must be off.”

 

Tuanul was in shambles. Ash clung to every surface, every… _corpse_. Some larger piles of debris were still letting out stripes of black smoke into the air.

Kylo ran along the western edge, following BB-8’s panicked shriek. He rounded a crumbling dwelling, struggled over a dune, and almost fell head-first into the smoldering remnants of an X-Wing.

BB-8’s photoreceptor was trained on the ship.  
“Beebee-Ate?” Kylo panted. “What’s wrong?”  
The droid told him. This was Poe Dameron’s ship. His master’s ship. The leader of a minuscule pocket of Resistance fighters’ ship.  
“Where is–” Kylo stopped as it dawned on him. This 'Poe' was dead. Along with the rest of the village.  
Kylo looked around at the destruction, and a new train of thought began.  
He knelt before the droid. _“Who are you?”_

Information came flooding from BB-8, and Kylo strained to understand it all.  
Resistance fighters. The First Order. A general. A mission. Tuanul.  
“Tuanul? Here, right?” Kylo asked, glancing around the destruction again. “Why were you coming here?”  
Another slew of mechanical hoots.  
“Who’s Tekka?” he interrupted. “ _Lor San_ Tekka, fine.” Kylo repeated some words back to BB-8 to make sure he’d translated correctly, “Ties to the Republic, okay. Need a – Skywalker?”  
BB-8’s beeps were becoming frantic.  
“Who? – ‘The Resistance is looking for’ – I don’t know what that means – well, _slow down,_ then!”  
The droid silenced and rocked itself in the sand with a sad moan.  
Kylo sighed and sat down next to the droid. The sand moved slightly, and Kylo wrinkled his nose at the coarse grains slipping through his fingers as he positioned himself.  
“I’m sorry about your friend, Beebee-Ate.”  
A warble came from the droid. It wasn’t exactly a word – more of a dejected sound that fizzled in the hot air.

 

BB-8 asked Kylo for a second time why he’d agreed to venture to Jakku and what he’d hoped to gain from the trek.  
Kylo hesitated. “I need to find Niima Outpost.”  
Another query: Why?  
“I,” Kylo warred within himself. “I’m trying to find my family, or where I came from.”  
The droid was confused, and said as much.  
“I wasn’t always on Takodana,” Kylo explained. “But I can’t remember where I was before. I think someone here can help me.”  
The droid seemed to ponder something, then asked another question.  
It was Kylo’s turn to be confused. “You want to come with me? Are you sure?”  
An affirmative.  
“But, what about your mission? The...Resistance? Your friends? Are you sure they’re gone? I could help you find a way back to them.”  
BB-8 voiced his gratitude for Kylo’s offer, but confessed he didn’t know what had become of his friends, and wouldn’t know how to begin looking for them with all the procedures they had in place to stay hidden and untraceable.  
The two sat in silence for a while, ignoring the Jakku heat as best they could.  
Kylo thought on the pros and cons of this new travel companion and the ways he could set about helping the droid find his friends once his own mission was resolved.  
BB-8 was simply running the numbers on how likely it was that Kylo would take him in and the odds of this mystery mechanic having an idea about how to help them both find their ghosts.  
Finally, Kylo stood, brushing sand from his person, and accepted BB-8’s request.  
BB-8 let out a delighted squeal and pulled up a map to Niima Outpost.  
It was far. At least seven standard hours, if they went by ship.  
A new look of determination set upon Kylo’s features. He turned his head and found the freighter and Taggart far off and waiting patiently in the open desert. “Let’s go.”

 

“I’m looking for information,” Kylo pushed a third of his remaining credits across the bar between him and the foreboding shape of Unkar Plutt.  
Niima Outpost was easy enough to find. A sort of oasis in the endless desert. Kylo was surprised to find that BB-8 stuck out more than he did in this mechanical haven. Perhaps haven wasn’t the right description. This seemed more like a place where technology came to die. Still. There were answers hidden in the conglomeration of grease and machinery and averted gazes. Kylo could feel it.  
“Credits are no good here,” Plutt grunted. “And I’m not in the business of selling secrets.”  
Kylo persisted. “Name your price. I’m looking for a mechanic. I was told I could find one here.”  
The Crolute feigned a moment of intense thought.  
“Perhaps I could accept parts,” he allotted, shifting his gaze to BB-8, who was idly shifting back and forth at Kylo’s side. “Working parts.”  
Kylo followed Plutt’s gaze to the droid.  
BB-8, suddenly very alert, pinned his photoreceptor on Kylo. The droid said nothing, but the message was clear: _don’t you dare._  
Kylo would be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind in the moment, however briefly, but it wasn’t the least bit temping. He was not in the business of kidnapping and reselling droids like some scum-of-the-galaxy pirate. Even droids that came willingly.  
“I don’t have anything like that,” he said, turning back to Plutt. “But I can offer you more credits. Enough to purchase your own—”  
“Like I said,” Unkar Plutt leaned back from his place at the trade window. “We don’t accept credits here, _boy_.”  
Kylo’s teeth clenched and a familiar heat washed through him.  
“Now,” Plutt leaned forward once again. “You give me the droid, and I’ll personally see you to our brightest mechanic.”  
“Prove it,” Kylo blurted, frustration rising. “Once I verify they’re right for the job, I’ll give you whatever you want.”  
A short, panicked screech came from BB-8, and Kylo kicked his heel against the spherical base.  
Plutt’s beady eyes were furious. “I assure you, they’re right for the job. You have my word.”  
“I’d like to determine that for myself, thank you,” Kylo glared. “Nothing against you, I just don’t trust the word of a _junk boss_.”  
Unkar Plutt looked like he wanted to throw one of his enormous arms through Kylo, but instead, he spoke hastily, quietly. “I won’t have you questioning me, _arrogant child_. Get out. We’re closed.”  
Kylo leaned toward the window. “You’d really give up this deal to soothe your injured pride, Crolute?”  
“I said, _‘Out!’_ ”  
The metal grate slammed down, scattering the credits and narrowly missing Kylo’s fingers.  
Kylo cooled, and felt they eyes of each scavenger and seller in the trading tent on him. He cursed to himself.

“You need a mechanic?” a gravelly voice said behind him.  
Kylo turned and had to look up to meet the sunken eyes of a large Abednedo. Not large – _giant_. Kylo stared. The size of the alien was one thing, but the bright yellow mechanical arms that were held together by a matching hunk of metal across his shoulders was another thing entirely. Load-lifter arms.  
“Crusher Roodown,” the beast grunted, and it took Kylo longer than was polite to realize this was the Abednedo’s name.  
He swallowed and tried to sound indifferent. “Not just a mechanic; someone who knows old tech. Could identify it easily. Know anyone?”  
Roodown nodded, the movement causing the metal at the base of his head to creak loudly. “Rey,” he said.  
“Rey?” Kylo quirked an eyebrow. “Who is that?”  
“One of the best.”  
Kylo’s eyes narrowed. “Prove it.”  
“Ask anyone,” Roodown looked around the tent, but his cybernetics didn’t give him much of a range of motion. “Big reputation. Took apart the star destroyers out in the Graveyard. Uncanny ability, not that it matters here.”  
Kylo glanced around. A few of the lingering strangers shrugged, another nodded. Not one chuckle or betrayal. Roodown was telling the truth.  
“Where?”  
“Gone,” he grumbled, his perpetual frown impossibly deepening in his gray face. “It’s still a sore spot with Plutt,” Roodown lifted a brow and nodded toward one of his metal shoulders. “He likes to keep his toys close.”  
_“Where?”_  
“Plutt doesn’t accept credits,” he said, staring intently at Kylo. “I do.”  
Kylo opened his mouth to say something, but BB-8 ran into his leg and squeaked. Kylo sighed and held out the credits, realizing, again too late, that the Abednedo’s arms weren’t equipped to handle such small objects.  
Before Kylo could say anything, another scavenger, a human woman with as many wrinkles as Maz, came to Roodown’s aid, collecting the credits from Kylo and counting them aloud.  
“Chandrila. At the old palace of the New Republic,” Roodown said when the woman had finished. He nodded to her and she concealed the credits in a pocket on the side of Roodown’s pants.  
“Hanna City,” the woman said, placing a finger on her dry lips. “But you didn’t hear it from us.”  
Roodown and the woman hobbled out through the tent’s entrance, along with the few remaining traders.  
Kylo and BB-8 were alone.  


 

“Chandrila,” Kylo murmured after a moment. “I've heard that before. Where have I heard that?”  
BB-8’s holo-projector buzzed, and the room suddenly filled with a blue holographic map of the galaxy. The little droid began beeping and churning, explaining the distance between them and this ‘Rey.’

A little sphere on the map lit up. Jakku. Another sphere, far across the galaxy, glowed.  
Kylo walked across the space to read the labels. Meandering between two planets designated _‘Brentaal’_ and _‘Anaxes,’_ was Chandrila.  
Taggart was already gone, Kylo knew. And they were now dangerously low on credits. Kylo turned back to the droid.  
“How do we get there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kylo’s necklace: I can't figure out coding on this damned site, so if you want a visual, just send me a DM on Tumblr. I'm not an artist, so it's literally a doodle. Nothing fancy.
> 
> funfact about me – I love necklaces that have secret meanings (like lockets or pendants or whatever that hide pictures or sayings or can open doors, or whatever!). Growing up, my favorite princesses were Anastasia and Odette (not just because they had fantastic songs and enchanting stories – they also had cool jewelry). I found an Anastasia “together in Paris” necklace on Etsy and I can’t tell you how much I NEED it. Etsy is such an amazing place.  
> Anyway, in order to get the whole “Anastasia” feel into this fic, I knew I needed to have a necklace w/ a secret meaning. (I’m super open to design ideas, people. Seriously. I am not an artist.)


	4. Once Upon a December

As they made their way from the ship ports to the heart of Hanna City, Kylo grew anxious.  
He and BB-8 were making their way down a pathway bracketed by lavish pale dwellings and bright green vegetation, but the other humans and Pantorans ignored them, not even sparing glances at the obvious visitors. 

As if that weren’t unsettling enough, the entire city was hushed, rivaling the dead silence of Tuanul. Street vendors dealt in mumbles and nods; what few children Kylo could see cowered behind their parents. 

He didn’t know much about the tragedy that struck the New Republic many years before. From what he’d heard on Takodana, a close ally and advisor to the New Republic had manufactured the downfall, selling the leaders out for a dark power in order to enslave the galaxy. Peace had been destroyed in a single night by fear and ignorance and hate. The citizens of Chandrila had turned on their leaders in the name of the dark-sider’s justice. Once the smoke cleared and the truth was revealed, it was too late.  
Rumor had it that the false ally had been killed in the melee. His followers, however, were ever-growing and continued to terrorize parts of the galaxy on his behalf, calling themselves The First Order.

“Does this feel like a trap to you?” Kylo whispered to BB-8.  
The droid rolled stiffly beside him, refusing to look at anything other than the stone pathway ahead. Even BB-8’s robotic tone was overly calculated when he whirred about not having trap-sensing abilities.  
“I _mean_ it’s too quiet. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”  
The droid didn’t answer.  
Kylo sighed. “Fine. Are we close to the palace yet?” 

BB-8 froze, and his photoreceptor fixed on something high. Kylo followed the look, and his mouth fell open.  
It towered above the city. Five enormous buildings made up the castle – the last seat of the New Republic. All were similarly colored – the same pale tan of the other buildings around the city with accents of blues and greens like the planet beneath them. The two tallest towers were long and rounded, something like vertical clouds. The other three were stout and edged. All shimmered where the gentle rays of the sun hit.  
“Wow,” Kylo breathed. “Wouldn’t you like to rule a galaxy from here?”  
BB-8 let out something non-committal, and then reminded him of their mission.  
“Right,” said Kylo, tearing his eyes from the site and shifting the bag on his shoulder. “Do you suppose the front door is unlocked?”

 

The New Republic palace was deserted, save for the rodent and insect-like creatures that scurried through the hallways and clung to the few remaining fixtures.  
While BB-8’s half-circle head swiveled erratically on his sphered base, investigating their surroundings, Kylo began pacing down hallways, in search of the Jakku mechanic.  
A few lazy beeps echoed off the walls – BB-8 noting an excess of dirt and broken furnishings compared to the grandeur of the palace’s outward appearance – but Kylo didn’t respond.

Down a large corridor and through the fourth hallway to the right, at the sixth open entryway, something had caught his eye. A portrait, he guessed, walking through the broken pneumatic doors. Or rather, what was left of a portrait.  
It leaned against a far wall. The thick frame was charred and broken beneath the layer of dust and ash.  
Kylo stepped closer.

There were three subjects in the painting, he decided after a moment of gently urging a few ripped sections of canvas together. A man, a woman, and a child. A boy. Not five years old, but overrun with inky hair curling around and below his ears. He was the only subject not riddled in gashes or burn marks from looters and weather and time. The woman’s smile could be seen, just above and to the side of the child’s hair, as if he were sitting on her lap. The rest of her being was missing or indistinguishable, save for long locks of deep brown hair coming over either shoulder of her gown, one side disappearing behind the boy. The man was standing, hovering over the woman and child. Kylo could see one of the man’s hands dwarfing an arm and shoulder of the little boy, and the other peeking out above the woman’s opposite collarbone, just noticeable between strands of hair. The man’s side of the painting had more canvas intact, and it held a bit of his face – mud-colored hair with noticeable streaks of gray beginning at the temples; a corner of a dark eye, crinkled in amusement, and half of a closed-lipped smile that hinted something cunning.

_A hand ruffles his hair_  
_“Found him in the cockpit”_  
_He jumps into his father’s arms_  
_“I’m gonna be a pilot!”_  
_“That’s right - the best pilot in the galaxy”_  
_His mother reaches out_  
_“Come here, my little starfighter”_  
_Laughter and warmth and kisses and..._

 

“ _OY!_ ”  
Kylo groaned as something hard collided with his ribs.  
“I _said_ , ‘who are you, and what are you doing here?’”  
The voice was harsh and accented, but, as Kylo turned around to confirm, distinctly feminine.  
The angry girl was completely covered in sand-colored wrappings, her eyes hidden behind a weathered mask. In her hands, a large staff made of various metals and mechanical parts and things Kylo couldn’t identify was aimed up at his chest.  
“Answer me!” She swung the staff at his knees, and Kylo lost footing in one leg. His rucksack tumbled from his shoulder and hit the ground with a _thud._  
Then he remembered the lightsaber. 

In an instant, a short yellow beam ignited from the durasteel cylinder that had launched itself into Kylo’s hands.  
Saber and staff collided but were equally ineffective against each other. The yellow beam even shivered at the contact.  
The girl saw her opening and lunged, swinging her staff again, the combined force knocking Kylo onto his back while the saber extinguished and rolled across the room.  
Lithe and ferocious, she was gaining the upper hand. Kylo had brawn, but she had skill and speed. And the damned _glorified stick._

He reached out just in time to block another blow from the staff, capturing the rod in his fist and flinging it away from them.  
That shook her.  
Kylo took her pause to throw her off of him and reach out to the saber. It had inexplicably landed in his hands before, so maybe it could do it again.  
To his shock, the saber rolled towards him. Then past him.  
Kylo turned on his knees. The girl was back, holding her staff and now Kylo’s saber.  
Her mask had fallen, revealing brown hair tied up in three knots down her head and wide eyes staring at the saber. She looked as surprised as Kylo was to see it in her hands.  
Their fight had carried them into the hallway, and Kylo caught sight of BB-8 a few yards away. He glared at the droid, but his anger was short-lived. BB-8 was motionless. The red light that usually glinted from his photoreceptor was gone.

Kylo seethed and refocused on the girl, who was still gawking at the lightsaber. He sprang at her and she grunted as they hit the ground, staff and saber flying out of her grip.  
He pulled back a fist. Hesitated.  
The girl used his indecision to claw at him with blunt nails.

 

“Woah, woah!” a new voice disrupted their scrapping. The girl was ripped away, and Kylo scrambled to his feet.  
He wasn’t sure who to focus on, the girl or the man holding her back. He was older than her by maybe 20 years and looked out of place in comparison, with his gaudy half-cape and coiffed dark hair. 

“Is that any way to treat a guest?” the man chided the girl, who wretched herself free from his grip with a huff. He grinned at Kylo. “Who do we have here?”  
“I don’t want any trouble,” Kylo panted, locked in a defensive stance.  
He chuckled. “Baby, you’re _in_ trouble, sneaking in here and starting fights.” He gave the girl a knowing look. She glared from her spot on the floor, her hands busy in her dark brown hair, fixing one of the three small buns that had come undone.  
“Sorry about Rey, here. She’s wary of strangers.” The man stuck out a hand. “Lando Cal—”  
“Rey?” Kylo stared down at the girl. “ _You’re_ Rey?”  
“What’s it to _you_?” she sneered.  
“I was told you were a _mechanic_ , not some scavenging feral child.”  
She sprang up at him and whipped her staff in the air. It came to a halt just below his chin.  
It was then that Kylo noticed an end of Rey’s staff had been filed to a rather sharp-looking metal point. “Would you like to try that again?” she hissed.  
Kylo matched her tone, “What did you do to the droid?”

“Seriously?” Beside them, Lando let his hand fall and sighed loudly. “Why is that always your first reaction?”  
Rey rolled her eyes, “I didn’t _kill_ it. I turned it off.”  
“Then fix it, please.”  
She hesitated, but removed her staff from its threatening position at Kylo’s throat and approached the droid, kneeling in front of it and feeling a hand between his base and half-circle head. Kylo heard a click, and the droid sprang to life before them, squealing and beeping ferociously. 

Kylo recognized two slanders before the girl bopped the little astromech on the head with her fist. “Enough, or I will—”  
“Don’t threaten him,” Kylo snapped.  
BB-8’t utility arm was out in a flash, buzzing with electricity. The droid began rolling erratically, searching for a target.

Lando caught the rogue droid first, careful to stay clear of his sparking weapon. “There, now, little fella. Calm down; we won’t hurt you.”  
BB-8’s photoreceptor examined the stranger, and, slowly, his utility arm retreated.  
“Let him go,” Kylo warned.  
“He’s _filthy_ ,” Lando admonished, turning the droid carefully and rubbing a finger against a shallow dent close to BB-8’s head. “Rey, let’s get him cleaned up.”  
“What—”  
“We owe them that much.”  
They shared a tense look while the droid more carefully scrutinized the girl.  
Finally, Rey rolled her eyes, landing them on Kylo for another glare, and began trudging down the hall.

 

Kylo, Lando, and BB-8 followed Rey through a maze of hallways and tunnels, until Kylo was sure she was lost. He stayed silent though, switching his recovered bag from shoulder to shoulder, while Lando and BB-8 talked animatedly about some feisty old droid Lando used to know. 

Rey eventually ended their journey, stopping in front of a large durasteel door sporting additional makeshift locking mechanisms.  
“Hold this,” Rey commanded, shoving her staff into Kylo’s hands.  
He narrowed his eyes. “You know, you should be more careful with this thing,” he said, testing the staff’s balance. “You could’ve done actual damage earlier.”  
“And _you_ need to stop waving that little flashlight around like a Youngling.” 

The doors slid open, revealing a large room crowded with parts and tools and grease. Light was unfamiliar here, save for a few random spotlights overhead. Their dingy glow made the room look more like a decrepit cargo hold than a mechanic’s paradise.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Lando cooed, stepping around Kylo and Rey.  
BB-8 followed his newfound friend like a duckling. 

Rey stared after them while Kylo spun the staff idly.  
“Did you make this?”  
She snatched the rod away and stomped into the room.  
Kylo felt a headache building behind his eyes from all the glaring.

 

Rey led them to a massive workstation just left of the entrance. One of the few spotlights was pointed directly over the large desk, which was littered in metal scraps from a recent project. Behind the desk were three crates, nearly as tall as Kylo and just as wide. Each had a collection of shelves and drawers, most of which were stained with grime and age; some hung open, almost bursting with more unidentifiable parts and pieces and bits.

Rey leaned her staff between a crate and the wall before she sat behind the desk.  
“Why did you come here?” she asked as she began clearing away the evidence of her latest creation.  
“I was told you could help me.”  
“By whom?”  
“An Abednedo on Jakku.”  
She couldn’t hide her flinch, but her tone remained disinterested. “You’re from Jakku?”  
“No. Takodana.”  
“Why were you on Jakku?”  
“I needed a mechanic.”  
“There’s no mechanics on Takodana?”  
“Not just a mechanic,” he explained. “I needed someone who knew old tech. Really old tech.”  
One of her dark eyebrows raised.  
“The Starship Graveyard. I read about it. I figured there would be someone there who could help me, so I went to Niima Outpost to ask around.”  
Rey failed to hide another wince.  
“An Abednedo told me about you. And that you were here.”

A loud hum startled them both.  
Lando had turned on a sonic cleanser and was scrubbing it along BB-8’s spherical base. 

Rey shot a harsh look across the room.  
“So, what do you want?” she turned back to Kylo. “Make it quick.”  
Careful to keep the crystal hidden from Rey’s view, Kylo reached for the necklace inside his dark tunic and unwound the wire. He slid it across the desk. “Can you identify this?”  
Rey picked it up and held it in front of her, examining the red casing with squinting eyes. She turned abruptly in her chair and began rummaging through a large box of tools behind her until she found something resembling pliers. Rey attached them to one end of the straw-thin cylinder and held the other end with calloused fingers, bending and turning the plastic-covered metal slowly.  
Kylo let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and Rey’s eyes snapped to his.  
“It’s a wire,” she deadpanned.  
Kylo’s eyes narrowed. “From where?”  
Rey shrugged and threw a hand out, gesturing to her makeshift market of parts. “From anywhere, look around you.” 

She tossed the wire at Kylo, who caught it easily.  
“You really hopped two planets and broke into a deserted castle to have me look at some wire?”  
“One planet,” he mumbled, reattaching the wire to the cord around his neck.  
“Fine, ‘one planet.’ Why?”  
“I need to know where this particular wire came from. I need to find its owner.” Kylo exhaled heavily. “Can you identify it or not?”  
She leaned back in her chair. “Who else knows I’m here?”  
“What?”  
“The Abednedo. How did he know where I was?”  
Kylo stuttered, “I don’t know. Does it matter?”  
“Were you followed?”  
“Follow—no.”  
“Are you sure?”  
Her eyes bore into Kylo’s, and he thought he saw something close to terror cross her features.  
“Yes,” he breathed, like a vow. “You’re safe.”  
Rey’s mouth cinched into a fine line while she mulled something over.  
“Your wire is from an Artoo series astromech,” she said finally. “ _Very_ old model.”  
“An Artoo?” Lando said, earning a start from Kylo and a glare from Rey. He had joined them at the workstation, a shiny, renewed BB-8 in tow. “Really?”  
“Where can I find it?” Kylo asked.  
“Find it?” Rey scoffed, dissolving the near intimate sincerity of their previous conversation. “You think there’s some database that tracks Artoo droids with missing wires?”  
Kylo’s brow furrowed.

“You know what I just realized?” Lando interrupted them again. “We weren’t properly introduced before,” he stuck a hand out again. “Lando Calrissian.”  
Kylo ignored the hand, but nodded politely. “Kylo.”  
“Kylo?” Lando pondered. “Interesting. Can’t say I’ve heard it before. Did your parents forget a last name?”  
“I, uh...” Kylo hesitated. “Kanata.”  
Lando stroked his short, graying beard. “Kanata. As in _Maz_ Kanata? You’re from Takodana?”  
Kylo nodded once.  
“Hm,” Lando pondered again. “I gotta say, I don’t see a resemblance. Actually, you look a lot like an old friend of mine.”  
“Lando,” Rey said, a warning.  
“Have you always been on Takodana?” he continued.  
Kylo glanced at BB-8. “Well—No, I came to Takodana as a child. Maz Kanata took me in.”  
“Ah,” said Lando. “And before that, before Maz?”  
“I don’t know,” Kylo confessed. “I don’t remember. I—I was found wandering around somewhere ten years ago. I don’t know anything before that.”

Lando shared a look with Rey. “Ten years ago?”  
“I know how it sounds—”  
“Where’d you get the wire?” Rey asked.  
“It was tied around my wrist when—when I came to Takodana.”  
“And you think it’s a clue?”  
“To my past, my family. It’s all I’ve got.”  
“Well, tell him,” Lando coaxed Rey after a moment.  
“Tell me what?”  
“Lando,” Rey warned again.  
“ _Tell me what?_ ”  
“She knows where your droid is.”  
“ _Lando._ ”  
“You do?”  
Rey’s eyes bore into the old man’s.  
“It seems we need a moment,” Lando said. “Excuse us, Kylo.” 

 

They weren’t gone long, and when they came back in the room, Kylo couldn’t decipher the look on Rey’s face.  
“Do you know where the droid is?” he demanded.  
She aimed a pointed look at Lando, but softened her gaze when it met Kylo.  
“I know where a droid might be.”  
“In fact,” Lando said, “We were planning a trip there ourselves.”  
“Where?”  
“Coruscant.”  
“Coruscant,” Kylo repeated.  
BB-8’s head perked beside them.

“Kylo,” Lando began. “What do you know of this castle? Of the New Republic?”  
He shrugged. “I know it was destroyed from the inside, a traitor—”  
“Ten years ago, it was. Devastating stuff,” his tone turned solemn. “I lost a close friend that day. Hadn’t seen him in years. When word got to me, I—” he trailed off.  
BB-8 hummed sadly.

“But shortly after,” Lando started up again. “It was discovered that someone escaped the attack. A child at the time, he’d probably be around your age now.”  
“The boy in the painting,” Rey clarified. “That was the son of Han Solo and Leia Organa. Leia Organa was the general of the New Republic.”  
“Ben Solo is the boy’s name,” Lando added.  
Kylo’s brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with Coruscant or the droid?”  
“Well, that why we’re going to Coruscant: to reunite Ben Solo with his uncle, Luke Skywalker. And you, Kylo, bear a remarkable resemblance.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“I just find it interesting,” Lando shrugged. “The same eyes, mannerisms. You don’t remember anything before a decade ago, and Ben Solo has been missing just as long. You’re looking for an old Artoo unit, and Ben Solo’s only living relative _has a very dated Artoo unit._ ”  
Kylo balked. “You can’t be serious. You think I’m Ben Solo?”  
Lando nodded.

“That’s impossible!”  
“Kylo,” said Rey. “Just think about it for a minute.”  
“Think about what? I can’t be a _Skywalker_. I’m just—” he thought back to the portrait. The boy with wide dark eyes and inky hair.  
“Unfortunately, then,” Lando interrupted his train of thought. “Artoo is the only help we can give you. We can’t leave here until we find Ben. We wish you good luck, though. You should stick around Hanna City for a few days, rest up before you continue your search—”  
“Wait,” Kylo mumbled. “I don’t know what happened to me, so who’s to say I’m _not_ this Ben Solo?”  
Lando offered an interested _‘mhmm.’_  
“And surely his uncle would know right away if I’m not him, and he’ll understand that it was an honest mistake. And if he has an Artoo droid, then that could be the next step for me. The next clue.”  
“Sounds doable to me,” Lando rubbed his mustache. “It seems like either way, you’re getting answers.”  
Kylo agreed. “Then, I want to come with you to Coruscant.”  
“Wonderful!” Lando cheered. 

 

“Well,” Kylo said after Lando swept out of the room, citing a need to confirm a transport for the next day. “Have you been to Coruscant before?”  
Rey’s eyes focused on something behind him. “Hey!”  
Kylo turned to find BB-8 at the opposite wall, poking around an almost identical BB unit, but for a black paint job and a flat-topped head instead of the half-sphere typical in older models.  
“Don’t touch that,” Rey snapped, charging between the droids and giving BB-8’s head a shove.  
BB-8 wobbled on his base and beeped indignantly.  
“It’s none of your business,” she scolded.  
A questioning hoot; and Kylo crouched before the black BB unit, investigating the dark lifeless lens of its photoreceptor.  
“ _Found it,_ ” Rey insisted. “And no, it isn’t.”  
More mechanical whirrs.  
“I think I’d know, _ball._ ”

“Alright.” Kylo stood to insert himself between Rey and BB-8. “We can talk about other droids on the way to Coruscant.”  
Rey crossed her arms. “The droid stays.”  
Something like a gasp came from BB-8.  
“Beebee-Ate’s coming with us.”  
“Absolutely not.”  
Kylo laughed humorlessly. “And why not?”  
“I don’t trust him.”  
“How? He’s a droid!”  
“I don’t work well with droids.”  
“You’re a mechanic!”  
Rey jabbed a finger at BB-8. “He tried to electrocute me.”  
“Because _you_ turned him off.”  
“I don’t care. The droid stays.”  
“ _Beebee-Ate_ is coming with us.”  
“ _No!_ ”

“ _Rey,_ ” Lando’s singsong voice called from the doorway, burdened with a stack of shiny, vibrant fabric. “We do not discriminate against adorable little droids. Let’s go!”

Kylo couldn’t contain a smug grin as he hoisted his bag back on his shoulder.  
BB-8 was even less graceful, hooting and whistling praises to Lando’s ‘appreciation for diversity’.  
The savage anger growing in Rey’s eyes was enough motivation for Kylo to usher BB-8 out of the room.

 

Rey allowed a final glance into her workshop. Before long, someone would notice the lack of activity going on within her stolen sector of the castle. Someone would realize she’d left a room of salvageable mechanics up for grabs. Her thoughts traveled back to Jakku. To her first home. To her job scaling old Star Destroyers and bringing what little she found back to Unkar Plutt for the meager portions he’d dole out as if he were doing her a favor. 

She shook her head. That life was over, had been over, for a long time. She was happy now. Well, she was safe. Embarking on a new adventure. One that could leave her dead or destitute, if Lando’s track record was any indication.  
Rey sighed and pounded her fist onto the door mechanism as she walked out.

 

Behind the closed door, a black BB unit stirred, and across the galaxy, a homing beacon flickered to life on the desk of General Armitage Hux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **LOTS OF NOTES PLEASE READ (if you want to...I’m not your mom)**  
>  First and foremost – I’m a trash person. It’s been nearly 2 months since my last update, and for that I am so sorry. A lot of the holdup was work and family drama, but a lot of it was my own laziness and bad planning. I promise I’m working on it, and I hope to make it up to you! Thanks for being so patient!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Little bit of backstory on the portrait scene because it’s my fave:**
> 
>  
> 
> When I saw the Anastasia musical (spoiler alert, if you haven’t seen/listened to the musical yet), I was hella pissed at some parts because they got rid of ALL the magic, but I really loved some of the new songs and a tiny bit of the new plot, so I decided I wanted to write something that pulled the best parts from the movie and the musical AND the actual history to create this mega closer-to-real-life Anastasia story (it’s been on hold for almost a year, though). 
> 
> When my research began, I found out a lot of cool things about the Romanov’s – like how they had relatively simple/humble lifestyles and did charity work. And I also looked into the “historical inaccuracies” of the 1997 movie. The one that interested me the most was that the palace Anya sneaks into to find Dmitri (and subsequently sees her own portrait a few times), had in real life been ransacked shortly after the Romanov’s were captured. All the paintings and pretty things were destroyed or stolen, so in reality, Anya would never have ever seen her picture...not to mention, the palace was destroyed entirely and replaced by some other building shortly after the Romanov’s were captured too...but that’s beside the point. 
> 
> The point is: I really wanted to get both the “coming home to ruin” and “strange, familiar, deja-vu-ness” into this au. The portrait scene was one of the first that I wrote for this fic, and I can’t tell you how many doodles I have of what I think the painting might look like stored in my laptop. I went through so many revisions...but that scene is one of my absolute favorites...and it’s where Reylo finally meets. *swoon*
> 
>  **LANDO!!!!** It took me forever to figure out who would be our “Vlad” in this au. Originally, it was going to be Chewie, but I thought he’d immediately know Ben because he obviously stayed with Han and Leia after the original trilogy. Then it was going to be R2, since Rey is so mechanically savvy and a bit of a loner, but two droids for a majority of dialogue was not working out – especially because it’s well-established in the SW universe that for some droids we have to guess what they said based on whatever someone else says as a reply. 
> 
> That’s when Lando happened.  
> He and Rey are kinda switching between the roles of “1997” Dimitri and Vlad, but I just really love it, and can totally see them as begrudging besties in real life.
> 
> This chapter was one of the hardest to write. I kept changing things and adding things and switching some things to different chapters. I don’t think I’ve ever had to correct so many plot holes in one piece of writing before. It’s exhausting. But so much fun. So much stressful fun. 
> 
> **And lastly, surprise! Two chapters posted on the same day to make up for my insanely terrible update timing! Wooo!** (though fair warning, the next chapter is hella short)


	5. In the Dark of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Best. Villain. Song.

“Impossible.”  
General Armitage Hux of the First Order was seated at a grand desk, centered before a large duraglass window that would usually be filled with blinding streams of hyperspace or millions of far-off stars and systems.  
But the enormous port held only the blue-green sphere of Chandrila, much to the general’s disappointment.  
An unavoidable disappointment after the comm he’d received. 

Hux fixed his eyes on the footage again, on the unusual trio: a cloaked old man, a grubby young woman...and a boy. A boy who was _decimating years of planning with every breath he took._

A droid beeped low before him, echoing itself from earlier.  
Hux growled. “It’s not possible. The Supreme Leader saw to it himself.”  
When the astromech didn’t respond, General Hux flicked another button on the desk, calling up the hologram of a startled technician.  
“Sir?” The man fidgeted with his uniform and added a hasty salute.  
“Send me everything we have on our Chandrila scouts – in particular, the BB unit placed in Hanna City. Designation 9E.”  
Before the technician could make a move to acknowledge the order, Hux tapped the button once more, and the hologram vanished.

“It’s not possible,” he said to himself, glowering at the round droid before him.  
BB-9E was motionless, the hologram footage of the three personages playing over and over and over.  
“No,” Hux muttered, pushing away from his desk to begin pacing. “It can’t be. He’s dead. They’re all dead.”

Something _pinged._  
“Finally,” Hux growled, turning abruptly toward the desk. A file had appeared on his personal datapad. After a few taps and pulls of his finger against the screen, the general found it.

 **Scout Report**  
Location: Chandrila Senate Palace, Hanna City, Chandrila  
Droid: BB unit, 9E  
Date: 25ABY  
Report: _audio sensor confirm_ /ben solo/ _received 1011 standard – bioindicators confirm identity_ /Ben Solo/ _1017 standard – recording footage sequence commenced 1017 standard – recording footage sequence complete 1021 standard – recorded footage sent:_ /Armitage Hux 84392/ _1022 standard – resume surveillance_

Hux resisted the urge to slam the datapad on the desk and instead opted to fall into a chair, letting the pad slide from his fingers to the duracrete floor.

“But that means...Ben Solo is alive.” Hux shifted his gaze from the fallen datapad to the hologram where the girl and boy were seemingly arguing, jutting fingers at something between them, just out of sight. “And that’s him,” he breathed. 

A sudden chill crawled up his spine. “ _General…_ ”  
Hux lurched from the chair, “W-Who—What’s going on?” He pivoted, eyes wide in search of the disembodied voice.  
“ _Ah, my old…friend…_ ” The eerily familiar sound became concentrated to the center of the room, bringing with it tendrils of dust from every corner.  
The general’s mouth hung open. “ _Supreme Leader?_ ” His knees hit the ground; eyes darted around the room too quickly to bring anything into focus.  
Dust and whispers pulled together to form a man-like shape, rippling and warping as it towered over the quivering general.  
“You’re... _alive?_ ”

Snoke – or what had become of him – solidified into existence. “ _Yes._ ”  
The figure moved slowly, stretching expired muscles beneath a translucent membrane, pocked and even vacant in places, revealing where parts of him just didn’t quite come together naturally. He settled a ghostly hand on his brow, feeling along the large gash that bisected the crown of his head. He followed it back until it smoothed into gray skin at the base of his skull. “ _In a manner of speaking._ ”  
Hux’s stomach turned, and he bowed his head low.

Without a word or any discernible movement, Snoke called the general’s cloak over from where it hung near the entrance and wrapped it around himself. A cold gaze studied the room. “ _I have felt an awakening._ ”  
“Y-yes, Supreme Leader,” Hux said, regaining both his footing and voice, but refusing to meet Snoke’s eyes. “The boy, Ben Solo. He’s alive – I’ve seen him.” He recovered the datapad from the floor.  
“ _Ben Solo…_ ” Snoke drew the pad through the air and left it hovering before him. “ _Alive._ ”  
The general felt an invisible pressure at his throat.  
“ _My purpose remains unfulfilled,_ ” Snoke hissed, and the pressure tightened.  
Hux gasped and sank to the floor, a hand clawing at his neck for relief.  
The choke hold vanished as quickly as it had come on, and Snoke’s slit of a mouth widened into something like a grin.  
“ _I sense you won’t disappoint me again,_ ” he said, “ _Will you, General_?"  
Hux breathed hard. “No, Supreme Leader. I swear it.”  
A cold laugh rocked through the room. “ _Good._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a short chapter, but I’m making up for it with an extra-long chapter next!! 
> 
> If you couldn’t tell, I was using a LOT of Voldemort vibes for Snoke-sputin. Especially the creepy head touch thing. That was 100% Voldy.   
> I’m having so much fun writing this, and I hope you’re having fun reading it! I can’t wait til we get to Coruscant and get to see a few more characters – this is just the beginning!!


	6. Learn to Do It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-o! I’m back at it again – sorry for the hiatus AND for the lateness after the hiatus! Of course, right when life and family and work and writing are all coming together, the universe likes to throw more crap at me. But there is good stuff on the horizon….and other Reylo AU writing adventures (stay tuned!). As always, thank you for reading and commenting and just everything! You guys are amazing! Come say Hi on tumblr anytime: @practical-or-brave

“The Vantillian?” Lando whined in the hangar threshold. “You told me you sold it!”  
Mismatched tarps strung together haphazardly over the double-hulled cruiser, and Rey busied herself removing the dingy cloths and flinging them at the closest wall, out of the way.  
“I never said ‘sold’,” she reminded him, “I said I _took care of it._ ”  
“You never said, ‘I pretended to sell it and thought no one would notice’,” Lando fumed.  
Rey shrugged, pulling off the last of the tarps and making her way to the grand vessel’s open ramp. “I figured we should keep it in case we needed reliable transport someday.”  
“We _have_ reliable transport that _isn’t_ the catamaran.” 

 

Kylo stared at the older man, watched him drag a dark hand across his eyes, as if to scrub out the sight of this harmless transport.  
“I told you I never wanted to see this ship again,” Lando said under his breath.  
His eyes then flicked to Kylo, catching the stare.  
The two shared an awkward pause before Lando motioned with a tilt of his head for Kylo and BB-8 to move along.

 

Rey had just flung a heavy bag inside the ship’s entrance when Kylo and the droid came up behind her.  
“Quarters are on the midlevel, to the left,” she informed the pair, though made a point not to look at either. “Don’t touch anything. And _you,_ ” she yelled to Lando, still grumbling at the bottom of the ramp, “stop pouting and get up here.” 

 

In the cockpit of the Vantillian Catamaran, Lando and Rey prepped for flight, fingers dancing over the large control panel, coaxing the ship to life.  
“I see you’ve kept up with the mechanics in here,” Lando said once the ship purred beneath them.  
“You can stay silent until you get over whatever problem you have with this ship,” Rey spat as they lifted from the ground.  
He took the advice.  
Within minutes, they were through the atmosphere, and Lando felt it was safe to talk.  
“I’ll need the droid for the jump,” he said gently. “I’d do it myself, but hyperspace is tricky.”  
“And?”  
Lando cocked his head to the side. “And _you_ need to get the kid to trust you if we’re ever gonna make this work.”

 

\--

 

Kylo and BB-8 were in the main deck below the cockpit, inside one of the living quarters meant for passengers.  
Rey opened the door without ceremony, revealing a luxurious room, complete with a plush undisturbed mattress, private washroom, and small sitting area with a very out-of-place tenant.  
In the bright, clean quarters, Kylo, clothed in neutral browns and dark grays, sat awkwardly in one of the chairs. His forearms rested on his too-long legs while he leaned to listen to the little orange and white astromech before him.  
BB-8 merrily chattered away about some adventure with a ‘rapier,’ and silenced once Rey stepped further into the room. 

 

“Rey,” Kylo greeted tersely  
“Lando needs the droid,” she matched his tone. “We’re getting ready for lightspeed.”  
“ _Beebee-Ate._ ”  
“Fine,” she didn’t try to hide her impatience as she shifted attention to the astromech idling at Kylo’s side. She nodded toward the door. “I trust you can find the cockpit?”  
BB-8’s large photoreceptor stared blankly at Rey.  
Kylo bumped his knee against the droid’s sphere base, half in warning, half in encouragement.  
The droid rolled out of the room, gears whirring almost silently, as if to mutter under his breath.  
Kylo cracked smile at the retreating droid, but it vanished when Rey didn’t follow BB-8.

 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she began.  
Kylo’s dark eyebrows shot up, and he bowed his head a little, trying to hide his shock. “Well, your first instinct _was_ to attack me.”  
“ _You’re_ the one who broke into _my_ home—”  
His hands raised in surrender. “I wasn’t trying to start anything,” he smirked as he lowered them.  
Rey crossed her arms over her chest, and Kylo watched her fail to hide her own amused smile.  
It was gentle and warm, he realized. So unlike her powerful and calculating exterior.  
No, not so much ‘unlike’, he corrected himself almost immediately. The warmth complemented her strength. It hinted at something behind her wall of glares and sarcasm. Maybe…  
“I appreciate the apology,” he tried.  
Rey scoffed loudly. “I didn’t _apologize,_ ” she sneered. “I was just acknowledging—”  
“Why don’t we just stop talking,” Kylo interrupted, feeling anger to match hers brewing just below the surface. “I don’t feel like fighting right now.”  
Rey narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine. I’ll stop if you do.”  
“Fine.”  
“ _Fine._ ”

 

They sat in perfect silence for all of thirty seconds.

 

“Can I ask you something?”  
Rey glared at him for what must’ve been the hundredth time since they’d met. “I believe this counts as talking.”  
He cocked a brow expectantly and gestured to the seat across from him.  
Her eyes flitted from the chair to the door behind her and back to Kylo.  
When it was clear she was not going to move to either sit or to leave, Kylo continued.  
“The lightsaber,” he reached into his nearby rucksack and pulled out the metal cylinder. “You called it to you at the castle.”  
Rey refused to look at the saber, keeping as neutral a face as she could. “Usually a question involves you _asking_ something.”  
Kylo was growing impatient, and she knew it.  
“My question is, _how?_ ”  
“What do you mean?”  
“How did you call the lightsaber to you?”  
“I’d hardly call _that_ a lightsaber,” she rolled her eyes, deigning to slump into the seat opposite him. “Whoever you stole it from either never intended to use it or you took it from a kid.”  
Kylo made a motion that threw a few dark locks into his face. “I didn’t steal—what are you talking about?”  
“That thing couldn’t hurt a rot-wing,”  
“H-How would you even know—”  
Rey stopped him with a groan. “I don’t understand how you grew up in Maz Kanata’s castle and somehow learned _nothing_. You’re off galivanting through space, ignorant of the danger you’re putting yourself in,” she threw a hand out to motion at the lightsaber, “with nothing but a _child’s plaything_ for protection. Honestly, have you done anything other than stare at that stupid wire your whole life?”  
Kylo gaped at her. “Why do you have such a problem with me?”  
She rolled her eyes and moved to stand. “I don’t have time for this—”  
“No,” he stood with her, stepping between her and the exit. “I’m curious, now. What is so wrong with me that you can’t stay civil for five _minutes?_ ”

 

The pneumatic doors _whooshed._ “ _There_ you two are. Rey, I think we’re—”  
“Finally,” Kylo hissed, still glaring down the girl. “Lando, how do you get her to _switch off?_ ”  
Rey’s mouth fell open, “ _Excuse me?_ ”  
She heard Lando slap a hand to his forehead. “What did you do to him now?”  
“ _Me?_ ” she exclaimed, pushing past Kylo to shout at Lando. “I didn’t do anything! I came in here to apologize—”  
“I _knew_ it,” Kylo hooted behind her.  
She spun to face him. “That’s _not_ what I meant!”  
“Heh-hey,” Lando threw himself between the pair, “you two can get better acquainted later.” He turned to Rey, “Beebee-Ate will be done soon, so we should get back.”

 

Without a word, Rey pounded a fist into the door’s control panel and stormed out.  
Lando pursed his lips at the door, then turned his head back to Kylo. “Don’t worry about her, she’s just...” he shrugged. “ _Women._ ” And then he whisked into the hallway after Rey.

 

“I figured this would happen sooner or later,” Lando called to Rey’s back as she stomped toward the cockpit. “When we get to Coruscant, you two will have plenty of time to deal with the sexual tension.”  
“ _Sexual tension?_ ” she rounded on him, jabbing a finger towards the passenger quarters. “To that pale, lumbering, mop-head— _have you lost your mind?_ "  
“I was only trying to help,” he laughed, passing her in the hallway while she recovered her dignity, but the small victory of making Rey flush a deep red was short-lived.

BB-8 sped into the hall, screeching as loudly as his mechanics would allow.  
“What’s going on!” Kylo called from the other end of the hallway.  
The droid kept rolling and beeping in a panic.  
Lando and Rey understood at the same time and bolted toward the cockpit.

As Kylo got caught up to them, he could hear the ship’s computer producing a proximity alert.  
From the doorway, just beyond the large console that filled half of the long deck, he could see the planet Chandrila still visible in the left-hand corner of the port. To the right, though…  
“ _Shit._ ” Rey strapped herself into the pilot’s chair and began hitting a series of buttons. “They’re locking weapons on us.”  
The ship that stood before them was like many Kylo had seen on Takodana.  
Cobbled-together parts, all painted in shades of black to blend easily into space, a telling insignia emblazoned on the hull.  
Pirates.  
It didn’t matter what gang was before them now. More often than not, another entity entirely would be behind these kinds of mercenary attacks, Kylo knew, and now was certainly not the time to speculate what he’d gotten himself into by following Rey and Lando.  
What mattered now was staying alive.

 

“I don’t suppose we have any firepower on this?” he asked, bracing both hands on either side the cockpit entryway.  
Rey let out something between a laugh and a yelp as the pirate vessel fired its first attack – and missed.  
Beside her, Lando fumbled with the buckle in the co-pilot’s chair. “This ship isn’t meant for– _dammit!_ ”  
Rey veered the ship to avoid a second blast.  
It hit them on the side, thankfully nowhere too critical.  
Another shot followed quickly, rocking the ship and forcing Lando from his chair.  
Rey swore again, “I could really use a co-pilot,” she yelled through gritted teeth,  
Alarms blared, and Lando pulled himself up just in time for a fourth attack on the Vantillian to force him back down.  
Kylo had lunged for the seat and strapped himself in before Rey could protest.  
She did anyway. “What are you doing?”  
“Lando’s busy at the moment,” he said, nodding behind them. “Tell me what to do.”  
She threw out her arm, pointing across the wide cockpit. “Shields!”  
Kylo looked left and jammed a fist into the first button he saw.  
The lights in the cockpit dimmed.  
“Not the rheostat!” Rey fumed, wrenching the U-shaped mechanism in her hands to the right. The ship lurched, following the motion instantly. “The one I pointed to!”  
“Right,” Kylo muttered, scanning the wall of buttons and levers.  
“Blue one, ten o-clock.” The whispered guidance came from Lando, who was looking very green and holding tightly to a stabilizing bar attached to the wall. 

 

It took Kylo another moment to find the right control. Rey was faster.  
She had swerved the ship away from another projectile, and, once steady, unfastened her harness and threw her arm out to slam on the shields.  
In the few seconds it took for her to send another hostile glance in Kylo’s direction and return to her chair, the steering mechanism had shifted.  
Kylo saw it first and grabbed onto it, over-corrected.  
Rey batted him away, and it took all of her strength to pull the vessel out of the atmospheric swan dive.  
Righted again, she gaped at Kylo. “Are you _trying_ to kill us?”  
“Do _you_ want land this thing by yourself?” Kylo shot back.  
Rey couldn’t respond.  
A deafening blast hit the cockpit head-on, jostling them in their seats.  
Smoke hissed from the pilot’s controls, and half the console went dark.

 

Rey looked over her shoulder to Lando, “Take the droid and get below. We’ll meet you down there.”  
“We can’t just—”  
“Lando, _now!_ ”  
They were out of time.  
“Prep the escape pod, Kylo. Red lever, below the console,” she commanded as she released herself from her harness.  
Kylo found it with ease and pulled. The lever revealed another screen, flashing a small yellow beacon around the dark cockpit.  
The instructions on it were simple enough. The pod would be shot out into space, with or without passengers, in 90 seconds.  
“Ready?” Rey’s voice was even, just barely covering her own panic.  
Kylo nodded, a steady finger activating the pod.  
In a swift motion, he undid his harness and followed Rey through the door and down to the bottom-most deck, where a single escape pod stood ready with one droid and one human passenger already on board.  
“If we survive this,” Rey panted, “remind me to thank you.”

 

\--

 

The pod crashed into soft Chandrila earth just a few kilometers from Hanna City, according to BB-8’s estimations. It was easy enough to find a paved path back to the city, utilizing one of the numerous trade routes that crisscrossed the planet, but it was just the time of day where the roads carried barely any traffic, so they would have to make the journey on foot.  
After ensuring they were not in the company of any enemies they’d just evaded, the group set off at a steady pace, under the light of a nearly-setting sun.

 

After fulfilling over an hour of agreed-upon silence, Rey broke it.  
“Lando.”  
“Here we go.”  
The murmur was followed quickly by a groan, as Rey dug her elbow into his side.  
“ _Listen,_ ” she hissed. “What happened up there? We weren’t the only ship leaving the planet.”  
Lando gaped at her. “You’re doubting me after a couple of pirates?”  
“You’re avoiding the question,” she shot back.  
“Rey, you need to trust—”  
“ _Don’t,_ ” she warned. “We made it out alive by the skin of our teeth. This is not what I signed up for, and you know it.”  
Lando let her stew for a minute before continuing.  
“Look, _you’re_ the one who chose to change the plan on me last-minute and take the catamaran.”  
Rey began to protest, but Lando raised a hand to silence her.  
“And since you took such _good care of it,_ ” he jibed, “it’s no wonder we were a target. We practically looked like royalty out there, not that’s a bad thing, necessarily.”

 

She exhaled heavily, unconvinced, and moved on to more pressing concerns. “What’s our play? On Coruscant, I mean, if we ever get there. You said you had a contact?”  
“You’re not getting cold feet,” Lando accused. “You? _Seriously?_ ”  
“I’m asking for a _plan,_ ” she said, eyes flitting to Kylo, more than a few long paces behind them. “Aside from getting shot out of the air in our own atmosphere.”  
Lando gave her a look, but Rey persisted.  
“Coruscant. Contact. What’s your magical answer?”  
“It’ll be simple,” an easy smile lit his face. “My guy’s squadron is based in the city, we just—”  
Rey stopped short, whipping her staff in front of Lando’s chest to block his path. “Squadron? _The Resistance?_ ”  
“Rey—”  
“ _That’s_ your ‘connection’?”  
“I told you Luke has a vetting system for potential nephews,” Lando insisted.  
“You didn’t tell me the First Order is tracking down Luke’s ‘vetting system’ _as we speak._ ”  
“What about Luke?”  
Kylo had caught up to them, and BB-8 meandered not far behind.

 

“Rey didn’t tell you?” Lando feigned innocence, though he knew he’d just invited Rey to enact her uncompromising revenge. “We won’t be able to go _straight_ to Luke when we land.”  
“What are you talking about?” Kylo looked between the guilty duo. “Rey?”  
“Well…” she played with the words in her head and started over. “In order to get information on Luke’s whereabouts, we have to convince his people that we’ve…got the…real prince—the real Ben.”  
“Oh, no,” Kylo laughed short and humorlessly. “ _No!_ You never said I had to _prove_ I was him!”  
“Kylo—”  
“You told me to show up and ask about his droid and maybe,” he pointed a finger at her, “ _maybe,_ there’s a small chance that we are somehow related. You didn’t tell me I have to parade about as if I were his long-lost nephew. You said nothing about _lying!_ ”  
“You don’t know it’s a lie!”  
“Oh, come _on,_ Rey! We have no reason to believe it’s the truth either.”  
“We should’ve told you sooner, I realize that—”  
“Oh, you do, do you? Well, if you have any other surprises for me, please let me know.” He stormed off ahead of them, long strides carrying him toward the sun dipping below the horizon.  
Instead of following him, Rey threw a pointed look at Lando.  
“Seriously?” he whined.  
“I tried on the Vantillian, and you saw how that ended.”

 

\--

 

When he heard the old man panting, Kylo slowed his pace.  
“Don’t slow down on my account,” Lando puffed as he caught up. “I could do this all day.”  
“What do you want, Lando?” Kylo sighed.  
He took a moment to catch his breath, even deigning to remove his cloak and drape it across an arm as they walked.  
“Take a look up there,” Lando said after his breathing returned to normal. He pointed a ringed finger at the darkening sky. “Billions of planets, systems, galaxies even. And you end up in this one, with us. Don’t you ever wonder if you’re meant to be here? If your place in the stars matters?”  
“I don’t know,” Kylo said finally, keeping his eyes on the vastness of space. It was a lie.  
Lando didn’t press. “There’s nothing left for you back there. Not on Takodana or Chandrila.”  
“And what’s ahead?”  
The older man chuckled. “You know, you _do_ remind me of him. Han Solo, I mean. Ben’s,” he hesitated, “well, _your_ father, I guess. Perhaps.”

 

The comparison was foreign to Kylo, but he knew the name. He had heard the stories as a child. The infamous Luke Skywalker defending the galaxy from Darth Vader, aided by two unlikely partners: his sister, the Princess Leia, and the famous smuggler Han Solo, most notable for his inability to follow through on anything – except Luke and Leia.  
Of course, Kylo only knew the legacies, whatever gossip and speculation travelers spread around Maz’s gambling rooms late into the evening. Who knew how much of it was actually true.  
“You knew him?” Kylo coaxed.  
“I did. We met a long time ago. Back when he was just a kid chasing a war to impress a girl.”  
Kylo nodded, content to hear nothing else, but a dangerously hopeful question slipped past his guard.  
“What was he like?”  
Lando smiled to himself, remembering. “He was a good man. Smart. And loyal to a fault,” he paused, considering. “Well, loyal to those who were loyal to him.”  
Lando’s face fell, and Kylo saw it from the corner of his vision. Something deep and troubled and maybe a little guilty.  
As quickly as the look had settled on his features, Lando schooled his face, and a new grin appeared.  
“And Leia was just like him. More beautiful, of course. And fierce like no one I’d ever seen. You’d never know such a small woman held so much strength. Kept Han on his toes. They really were perfect for each other. And happy.”

 

Kylo couldn’t describe the feeling that washed through him then. Irrational pinpricks of anger or jealousy mixed with hurt and longing. He swallowed hard. “You knew Luke too, then?”  
Lando continued for five or six more steps before answering. “Luke was just a kid when I met him, but he had all the power of his sister, just not quite the same… _volume._ ” He spared a grin and a wink in Kylo’s direction. “He was good too, _is_ good.”  
Lando’s tone changed – the most serious Kylo had ever witnessed him since their meeting.  
“From what I’ve heard, he loved Ben Solo like a son. He’s spent years on Coruscant looking for information on him. And finding out Ben is alive has made him – well, it awoke some kind of hope in him that’s been gone a long time.”

 

“Do you really think I could be him? The,” Kylo scoffed at the title Rey had given him, “the _‘prince'?_ That the stars just happen to put me right here and now to find answers after all this time?”  
“I don’t know if you’re him,” Lando confessed with a shrug. “You might not be. But you said it yourself this morning: You’re looking for answers. Is it so hard to believe you might find some?”

 

They walked in silence until the castle came into view.  
Rey and BB-8 passed them then, chattering animatedly about the droid’s innerworkings and how Rey could make some improvements with the gear she’d brought with her.  
Kylo felt himself smile at the new camaraderie, though he couldn’t bring himself to immediately follow them when Lando began skirting around the castle’s backside.

 

After contemplating their discussion on the path and letting his curiosity get the better of him, Kylo joined them in another hidden sublevel hangar, much like the one they’d been in just that morning.  
He was met with an unusual sight. 

 

The hulking vessel looked more like a creature than a transport.  
A rounded disc with two blunt, bared teeth and a single sphered eye poking out of one side.  
It looked ancient and monstrous, pieced together with random stripes of metal and durasteel and blinking lights that prodded something in Kylo, though he couldn’t fathom what.

 

Rey and BB-8 circled the ship with purpose, taking note of repairs that needed to be done before flight and those that could wait for Coruscant.  
Lando returned to Kylo’s side to make one last speech.

 

“You don’t have to do this, kid,” he said, eyes never leaving the freighter before them, “but think for a minute about all you’ve been through. You’ve had to grow up without a family, without knowing anything about yourself, and Luke has had to spend the last decade alone, suffering just as much as you have, maybe more.”  
A muscle twitched in Kylo’s jaw.  
“And maybe, just maybe, you’ve been looking for each other all these years. So, while you don’t have any obligation to come with us or do things our way, I have to ask you, Kylo: What do you have to lose?”  
Without giving him time to answer, Lando strolled beneath the ship and up its ramp, out of sight.

 

Kylo found them waiting in the ship’s main hold.  
BB-8 was mulling around some exposed wires in the wall; Rey and Lando stared intently at a game of Dejarik, though it was difficult to tell who was winning.  
Rey looked up first, a strange anticipation playing across her face.  
“You win,” Kylo congratulated them. “What do I need to do?”

\--

“Where did you find this thing?” Kylo’s question was full of derision as he glanced around the cramped cockpit.  
“It’s junk, I know,” Rey joined.  
Lando shushed them both. “Hey, now, she’s a classic.” His hands rested on the console, a million memories replaying behind his eyes.  
Kylo shared a conspiratorial grin with Rey, “Next stop: Coruscant?”  
“ _If_ he can get this thing off the ground,” Rey muttered back, taking the copilot’s chair.  
Lando chortled, adjusting his headset, “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, baby. Old Uncle Lando’s got it.”

 

_Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, my little Starfighter. Uncle Lando’s gotcha._  
_Unca Wanwo!_  
_Unca Wanwo!_  
_Unca Wanwo!_

 

Kylo’s brow furrowed. “‘ _Unca Wan-wo’?_ ” he whispered.  
Lando’s head turned abruptly to Kylo, his dark eyes wide, affronted. Suspicious.  
“’Wan-wo’?” Rey’s mockery echoed in the cockpit, though she wasn’t intrigued enough to turn away from the console. “Are you having a stroke back there?”  
Lando remained locked onto Kylo for an uncomfortably long time before cracking a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes.  
“My money’s on residual effects of that staff of yours, Rey.” He turned, dismissing the boy, the words, the _past._ “Hopefully it’s not permanent.”

 

\--

 

“What are you doing?” Rey wasted no time foraging through the boxes of food in the main hold and piled her bounty on the Dejarik table.  
Kylo, seated at the other end of the table's half-moon couch, frowned at the girl, who was busy digging into the pile like it was her last meal, her haphazard foraging sending packages of dried foods across the table.  
“I’m making a lightsaber,” he said coolly.  
She covered her amusement with another question. “And do you know _how_ to make a lightsaber?”  
Kylo noted her derision and glared his response, setting back to work taking apart what Rey had deemed a ‘little flashlight’. 

 

A thin metal plate revealed complicated innerworkings, its soft buzzing drowned out by the munching of his traveling companion.  
Kylo wiped a hand across his forehead.  
He _was_ using BB-8’s help to track down information on his saber and how to reconfigure it to be effective, but Lando had called the droid elsewhere, needing him to take care of things on the antique ship.  
“You might want to start with the electromagnetic containment field,” Rey said, as if she were reading the words among the nutritional information on the food pack in her hands. “It’s what dampens the beam.”  
He didn’t acknowledge her advice, but he took it all the same. 

 

He was ready for the final piece in less time than he’d expected, before Rey had even made it half-way through a fourth bag of food.  
The small yellow stone he’d recovered from the saber was small and smooth, like the rocks on Takodana’s shores, shaped by the ebbing and flowing of endless salt waters.  
His heart pounded with a thought, a theory, and Kylo reached a hand to the back of his neck for the knotted cord.  
Hesitated.  
“Here,” Lando called from the doorway, and Kylo flinched.  
Rey covered a laugh with an ill-timed cough as Lando tossed a small bag onto the table.  
Without ceremony, Kylo turned the bag over into his hand.  
A thumb-sized chunk dropped into his palm.  
“ _Where_ did you get that?” Rey gasped at Lando, nonchalance lost and – was that a hint of jealousy?  
Lando shrugged. “An old friend. Long time ago.”  
She smothered her frustration by opening the closest package, all the while watching Kylo like a hawk.  
“It’s kyber,” Lando explained while Kylo prodded at the red lump. “For the saber. Figured you’d need something less… _yellow._ ”  
Kylo thanked him quietly and examined the stone, holding it over the open saber. 

 

“That crystal’s cracked,” Rey managed to say around a mouthful of food. “And it’s too big.”  
Kylo heard her mumble something about being unstable and cutting it in half, but he ignored her and gently urged the crystal into place. His heart pounded in his chest as he placed the wires and plates over the crystal, completing the lightsaber. _His_ lightsaber.  
Kylo rushed to his feet and aimed the weapon at a wall. He thumbed the ignition for all of three seconds and fell backward as the roiling plasma that beamed from the saber shook and spasmed and almost sliced through the floor.  
He could hear Rey choking on laughter and food. 

 

Kylo’s ears burned with embarrassment, and he scrambled to his feet, attempting a brief air of pride and indifference, before he bent over to pick up the saber.  
Rey was only softly giggling now; Kylo said nothing as he sank into his side of the couch.  
“I told you,” she said, wiping tears from her cheeks that had escaped during the fit of laughter. “It’s too big _and_ it’s cracked – Un. Stable.”  
“It’s not unstable,” Kylo said through gritted teeth. “I just need to adjust...” he trailed off, poking and prodding the innerworkings of the saber.  
“What you _need_ is an auxiliary port.”  
Kylo rolled his eyes and ran a hand across his forehead, this time feeling the sweat beading against his cold skin. He fiddled a metal plate back into place, satisfied with his work, and lit the saber once more.  
The bright red beam carved through the Dejarik table, melting plastic remnants of food wrappings, and, just before he could turn it off, catching the end of the large sand-colored wrap Rey had draped twice across herself.  
The beam died, and Kylo gawked at the girl.  
She glanced down lazily at the singed fabric. Pursed her lips. “Maybe two.”

 

\---

 

“Just need to get around this one,” Rey drawled, kneeling over the open saber, lost in focus as her fingers pried at a stubborn connector. She managed to slip a finger around the fixture and pulled. Too hard.  
Rey swore, flinching as sparks bit at her fingertips, the motion sending tiny pieces of metal across the floor. She sat back on her legs and held the saber up to her eyeline.  
After a moment, she tilted her head, a grin threatening at her lips. “Kylo, do you still have that wire?”

 

\---

 

“Done,” Rey smiled up at a hovering Kylo and passed the saber into his hands. “It’s not _perfectly_ stable,” she flashed him a smirk, “but it won’t slice the ship in half.”  
Kylo examined the piece.  
It was...it was impressive.  
Wary, he thumbed the ignition. 

 

Rey was right, the blinding red beam was not as stable as the yellow one had been, but the wavering of the plasma was considerably less with the identical lateral ports, shooting out shorter red beams perpendicular to the main.  
The thin red wire was fastened to the saber’s hilt, salvaging the connections inside the weapon where she had accidentally broken them.

 

“Now,” Rey hopped to her feet and adjusted her wrap, biting into the fabric just above where Kylo had nearly lit it on fire and tearing the singed bit off. “Let’s see if you know how to use it.”  
Kylo was surprised when Rey whipped her staff between them, challenging him.  
“Don’t worry about the staff,” Rey answered the question written plainly on his face. “It’s tougher than it looks.”  
“Show her what you’ve got, kid.” Lando had poked his head back into the room. “She’s all talk, anyway.”  
This brought a self-satisfied, almost prideful look to Kylo’s face, and he brought the unlit saber up between him and Rey. 

 

Lando played the role of spectator while Rey corrected Kylo’s form and let him block a few practice swings from her staff.  
Once he’d convinced himself it was safe to leave the two adolescents alone, he ventured through the corridors, making his way to the engineering bay.

 

“How we doing, Bee?” he called to the spherical droid.  
BB-8 clicked back something disparaging about the ancient ship and its ‘useless’ hyperdrive.  
“Now, now,” Lando chided, “be nice to her. She’s old, but she’s still got a few tricks up her sleeve.”  
The droid was unamused at Lando anthropomorphizing the freighter, but he thought better than to question it, as the science that built him was rooted in that phenomenon.  
Instead, he changed the subject, asking after Kylo.  
“They’re still in the main hold,” Lando answered with a nod in their general direction. “Rey’s toughening him up.”

 

As if on cue, a loud, pained yell echoed through the corridor.  
Followed by Rey’s scream.  
“ _KYLO!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading (and being so patient with these updates)!
> 
> Funfact: I’m pretty sure this is my longest chapter yet. 
> 
> Also, if you’re in the mood for more Reylo AUs, I’ve been working on a few (including Tangled, Little Mermaid, AND my pride and joy: Portal). The Portal one is the closest to being finished, so that will be posted mid-January (I’m trying this new thing where I finish the main plot/storyline of an AU and THEN start posting it…so I don’t have to deal with my annoying self taking months to update a story.)
> 
> As always, you guys are the best audience a girl could ask for. Thanks for your messages, comments, kudos, and patience!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism is ALWAYS encourage and accepted. 
> 
> Also, I'm always looking for beta readers, so hmu on tumblr if you want to deal with all my nonsense (@practical-or-brave)


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